


tide me over with a warmth i will not forget

by only_because3



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1773181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Perhaps we should talk about this inside?” Steve nods and once the door is shut behind them, she cuts him off before he can offer her something to drink (not that he has anything besides water and OJ). “There’s really no one here to ‘threaten’ me? No one here to try and force me to sign papers that state how incredibly sued I would be if I told anyone that Captain America ordered a call girl for a night?”</p>
<p>or the story of Steve's first kiss since 1945</p>
            </blockquote>





	tide me over with a warmth i will not forget

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I hate stories that are simply character from fandom/original character. But Steve saying to Natasha in The Winter Soldier that she was not his first kiss since 1945 got me thinking. And then my friend jokingly said that he obviously had an encounter with a woman of the night. Thus this story was born, because the idea of Steve going on a date with a sex worker would NOT leave my head. So, enjoy!

Captain America doesn’t really get nervous.  
  
    Steve Rogers on the other hand? Steve Rogers gets nervous a lot.  
  
    Which is why when he opens the door to find the woman he… invited? over standing in the hallway, his mouth gets even more dry and his palms start to sweat.  
  
    He notices a flicker cross her face. She’s definitely figured out who he is even without all the red, white and blue, but she schools her face expertly and allows her grin to grow. “Steven?” He nods and gives her a tight smile. She holds out her hand and he didn’t really know what to expect but it wasn’t this. “I’m Erica.”  
  
    He shakes her hand, firm, but mindful. “It’s great to meet you, Erica.”  
  
    She dips her head just so and then peers around him just a little. “I’m assuming there’s things to take care of inside?”  
  
    His eyebrows furrow together. He stupidly looks over his shoulder, thinking maybe he forgot something, before focusing on her again. “Uh,” he starts, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I just need to grab my jacket. Then we can go to dinner.”  
  
    Confusion settles on her features now. Then, lowly, she says, “You mean I’m not going to get the talk?”  
  
    This was such a bad idea.  
  
    “Ma’am, I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”  
  
    Erica scans the hallway, taking note of the other doors on the floor, and if Steve hadn’t called the agency himself, he’d think that he was about to go on a date with another spy. “Perhaps we should talk about this inside?” Steve nods and once the door is shut behind them, she cuts him off before he can offer her something to drink (not that he has anything besides water and OJ). “There’s really no one here to ‘threaten’ me? No one here to try and force me to sign papers that state how incredibly sued I would be if I told anyone that Captain America ordered a call girl for a night?”  
  
    He can’t even try to hide his gaping. “Does that actually happen to you,” Steve asks and she quirks an eyebrow.  
  
    “All the time.” She looks him up and down, her shoulders relaxing just a hair. “For people a lot less important than you,” she finishes, her tone gentle.  
  
    He shakes his head and busies himself grabbing a jacket from his hall closet. “I’m just Steve Rogers. No one actually cares about Steve Rogers.”  
  
    “But people care about Captain America,” she points out and he sighs heavily as he shrugs on his jacket.  
  
    “Ma’am-”  
  
     She makes a face and quickly tells him, “Erica, please.”  
  
    He nods. “Erica, no one knows I’m doing this. I did not make this decision as Captain America. I’m _tired_ of Captain America. I’m just Steve. There’s a difference and I still remember that, even if no one else does.” She looks at him a little different and he sighs again. “This whole thing is weird for me. Not because you’re a… a… I know there’s a more polite way of saying it than how you phrased it, I’m just not sure what it is.” Her lips twist upwards now but she makes no move to help him out of this predicament. “Your job is your job and that’s great. But I’ve never done this and I’m not quite sure how to act.”  
  
    “What do you want from tonight,” she asks.  
  
    His shoulders slump for a moment before he shoves his hands into his pockets and straightens, looking her straight in the eye. “I just want someone who will put Steve before Cap for a change.”  
  
    He watches as she processes this and when she nods, murmurs that she can do that, he relaxes a little.  
  
\--  
  
    He doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed this hard.  
  
    He imagines it was some time before the war and if he really allows himself to think about it, it was probably Bucky who got his side to ache much like it is now.  
  
    Erica is grinning from across the table, laughing a little herself the more he continues to laugh. “Now I know I can be funny, but I’m starting to think that you’re just laughing this hard for my benefit,” she says and Steve shakes his head wildly.  
  
    “No, no! That was hilarious, truly.” He puts his hands on the edge of the table and takes a few deep breaths, shaking his head again when the punchline of the joke creeps up on him again. He takes a drink of water and then smiles. “You kind of have the advantage of me being on ice for a good 70 years. I don’t know all the good jokes anymore.”  
  
    Stabbing at her salad, Erica asks, “Do you remember any jokes from your time?”  
  
    He nods. “Not sure they’re quite as funny as yours though.”  
  
    She sets her fork down on the edge of the plate before she takes the bite she just gathered and then clasps her hands together. Dramatically fluttering her eyelashes, she coos, “Please?”  
  
    It makes him laugh again and he rubs his chin as he thinks. “Okay, okay. There was this  young woman, right?” Erica nods. “And her parents were trying to arrange a marriage for her with this old man. When the day of the ceremony came, she refused to go because she didn’t want to feel old age creeping on her.” Erica lets her head fall back with a loud laugh and it must come out louder than she anticipated because she quickly covers her mouth with her hand.  
  
    “Way more tasteful than mine,” she says through her laugh, “But just as funny.”  
  
    He shrugs almost sheepishly. “A lot of jokes back then were pretty sexist, but I always liked that one.”  
  
    The smile seems to be stuck on Erica’s face now, an actual smile, not the one that she first greeted him with. That one had been fake, a work smile, and Steve’s glad she seems to actually be enjoying herself now. “I can see why,” she muses before finally taking a bite of her salad. Her tongue darts out to get the bit of dressing that didn’t make it into her mouth. “So, have you been talked into following any of the trends we have now? Anyone try and drag you to a zumba class?”  
  
    “No, thankfully,” he says, picking at the fries left of his plate. “I did try yoga though, with a few coworkers of mine. Not too sure if it’s up my alley.” Erica’s nose wrinkles. “Not for you either?”  
  
    She shakes her head. “I hate yoga. I don’t have the patience for it.” She takes a sip of water and then asks, “So, have you drawn any since you’ve been back?”  
  
    He shrugs. He has, but it’s nothing more than a few rough sketches at this point. The _need_ to draw hasn’t come back to him yet. He’s not sure if it’s going to, but for now, he’ll settle for the little things. “We’ve talked enough about me. You know now, I’m just a boring old man trying to figure out all this touch screen crap,” he jokes and it makes her smile widen just a little.  
  
    “You’re not boring at all, Steve.”  
  
    He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m boring _me_ talking about me.” He starts toying with the napkin in his lap. “Would it… Is it okay for us to talk about you?” He notices her face soften again, the work mask slipping just a little. “I know that there’s… rules? Or, protocols, I suppose. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
  
    She nods, though just barely. “There are certain safety concerns. No one wants a stalker. But mostly, my clients don’t really care about me. Ruins the magic if they actually come to know me as a person rather than someone selling them a service.” She licks her lips thoughtfully, an arm draped over the back of her chair. “But something tells me, if you truly wanted to, you’d be able to find out all of my personal details.” He starts to protest and she raises a hand to get him to stop. “I truthfully don’t think that you would, but you do have the resources. More resources than my usual clients.”  
  
    “It’s okay, Erica. I understand that-”  
  
    She raises her hand again. “I don’t know _why_ exactly, but I’m willing to talk to you. I just hope you respect the fact that I won’t be as open with you as you were with me.”  
  
    “Well, I wasn’t planning on asking for your social security number,” he says lightly. “Though I could tell you what it was like to get one of those suckers when they first came out.”  
  
    “Your number must be nearly all zeros,” Erica teases before rolling her shoulders back. “But, okay… What would you like to know, Steve?”  
  
    He opens his mouth only for nothing to come out. He hadn’t really thought of anything to ask her, doesn’t really have any specific questions. He just wants to know more about her, wants this to feel less like the act of desperation that it is for human contact. He shrugs a little. “Do you have any pets?”  
  
    “That is a big n-o,” she responds. “I’m not home nearly enough to keep anything alive, let alone an animal.”  
  
    He nods. “Does work keep you that busy?” He really hopes that wasn’t offensive. It’s possible that was offensive.  
  
    But Erica doesn’t look offended, just does this half shoulder shrug, half shoulder roll, thing. “My weekends are usually work filled. But I spend most of my time either at school, or helping out with my brother out with his kids. Sister-in-law is deployed, so I help.”  
  
    “That’s really nice of you to help like that.” He’s sure she gets that a lot but it’s the truth. He hopes she knows that.  
  
    “The job helps,” she admits. She runs her finger along the rim of her glass, moving a bit more than she has all night. He almost wants to assure her that she doesn’t have to share with him, that they can just go to the movie or end this date (gosh, but this isn’t even really a date is it?) now. He doesn’t want to push her into doing anything that will make her uncomfortable. But she meets his eyes instead of evading them and it helps _him_ relax. She’s there and presents and he can tell that this is okay. It’s strange and new but okay. “Rarely, if ever, do I have a client at the time the kids get out from school. I get to cook slash eat dinner with them too before I need to work, which means they don’t have to suffer through frozen food all week.”  
  
    He grins. “Your brother not much of a cook?”  
  
    “Actually, he is a cook. It’s just that by the time he gets home, that’s the last thing he wants to do.” A piece of hair falls into Erica’s face and she blows it out of the way. “Plus, the kids aren’t exactly crazy about kale.”  
  
    Steve lets out a small laugh. “You can’t trust those people.”  
  
    “I completely agree,” Erica admits. “My last boyfriend was one of those health nuts.” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “One of the ones you only see wearing some kind of obnoxiously bright spandex and those weird toe shoes. Really, that should have been my tip off. I could barely look at him when we met.”  
  
    “How’d you two meet,” he asks and she starts to laugh. He wonders for a second if he missed something but then she places her elbows on the table, the palms of her hands facing towards him.  
  
    “I swear that what I’m about to tell you is the truth.” He nods wearily. “It was during the Battle of New York. We were trapped on the subway together. He kept trying to strike up conversation and after the first hour, I told him that I could only talk to him if he took off the ridiculously bright yellow top he was wearing.”  
  
    He licks his lips, the corner of his lips upturning. “Well…” He lets out a light chuckle. “Should I apologize?”  
  
    “Nah, it’s not your fault. Really, my resolve is to blame. And, anyway, I lost about five pounds during our three month relationship. So at least some good came out of that kale eating douchebag.”  
  
    “I’m guessing it was more than the kale that did him in?” She nods and sighs.   
  
    Carefully, he starts to ask if he can ask but she cuts him off. “You are so ridiculously polite.”  
  
    He shrugs a little. “So I’m told… I just understand that what I’m asking of you isn’t exactly what you provide in terms of services,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “And I don’t want to make you do or say anything you’re uncomfortable with just because I’ve chosen your service to have, well…” He looks down at his empty plate and sighs. “Just because this old man doesn’t have any friends any more.”  
  
    “You’re not an old man, Steve,” Erica says, shaking her head a little. “But, let’s just make the blanket statement, okay? Ask your questions and if I’m uncomfortable, I will tell you I don’t want to answer. It can be that simple.”  
  
    “Okay.”  
  
    She rolls back her shoulders and then picks at her salad again. She’s doing it to distract herself, he can tell. He bites down on telling her to forget about the question he hasn’t even asked. He knows she would remind him that she just said she wouldn’t answer if she was uncomfortable. “He knew about my job,” she starts off. “It’s one of the first things I tell guys because it’s sort of a deal breaker. If they’re uncomfortable with my job, I’m not going to waste my very limited free time on them.”  
  
    “What was it then?”  
  
    She tilts her head from side to side, eats a forkful of lettuce. “I think it was a combination of things. First, he didn’t think that my major was ‘real.’ I think the word he wanted was practical. He would comment on it a lot despite the fact that we had known each other for literally three months. Then there was the fact that his idea of dates was going on runs. We never went out to a restaurant, never went out to coffee. Nothing.”  
  
    “Seems more like you were his running buddy than anything,” Steve adds and Erica nods quickly.  
  
    “Exactly! There was no romance to it. Not that I _need_ a lot of romance but he was more of a friend that was way too pushy and expected me sleep with him all the time.” She sighs. “I kicked him out once he mentioned my job in front of my nephew.”  
  
    Steve blinks and the chair he’s sitting on creaks as he postures up. “Excuse me?”  
  
    “It was an accident. He didn’t purposefully do it, but the point is that I _am_ proud of what I do. I don’t have any shame about it. But my nephew is 12 and-”  
  
    “And it was completely and incredibly inappropriate of him,” Steve states. “He may have said it was an accident or it may have seemed that way, but people who genuinely care about you don’t let big things like that slip.” He swallows hard, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine there was even a reason for that to be brought up.” He lets out a breath. “I’m glad that you don’t have that in your life anymore.”  
  
    “Heel, Steve,” she says lightly.  
  
    “Erica, I don’t doubt you literally kicked him to the curb,” Steve says earnestly, “but that still doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t want to give him a good slug if I knew him… I can’t stand people like him.”   
  
    She looks at him thoughtfully, a ghost of a smile on her face. She taps her fork on the bottom of her bowl and then rolls back her shoulders. “You want to know something?” Steve nods. “I hate salad.” He frowns instantly, looking down at her half eaten bowl. “I know it’s good for me but I only ever eat it when I work because it’s light. Doesn’t settle heavy.”  
  
    “You shouldn’t-” He stops. She is on the clock right now. She’s developed this routine because this is what normally works for her. It keeps her performing at her best. He can’t be upset that she didn’t alter her routine just because he doesn’t see himself being lumped in with her other clients. Still, he has to at least make the offer. “Erica, do you like popcorn and hot dogs?”  
  
    “Hot dogs are disgusting, Steve.”  
  
    “What? No, they’re great!” He pauses and then nods his head just so. “Well, they were great. They definitely don’t taste the same nowadays.”  
  
    “I’m sure they tasted disgusting back then too.”  
  
    He feigns a glare at her from across the table but drops it once she laughs again. “Okay, okay. Well, how about popcorn?”  
  
    “Popcorn I like,” she says, that cool smile resting on her face again.  
  
\--  
  
    “I don’t think I’ll ever be over all the explosions they put in movies,” he mutters as they walk out on to the sidewalk.  
  
    “I don’t think I’ll ever be over the fact that you _actually_ bought one of every candy in there,” Erica counters, still trying to shove most of the boxes in to her purse that was nowhere near big enough. “You could have just come back and asked me what I liked instead of spending a small fortune.”  
  
    He blushes a little but offers her a shrug with a small smile. “Well, this way your nieces and nephews can have candy too.”  
  
    “They’ll be eating it for years… Are you sure you don’t want to take any? You did buy them.”  
  
    Steve shakes his head. “Most of that stuff is too sweet for what I’m used to. Tastes like just straight sugar.”  
  
    “Honestly,” she huffs, finally getting all but two boxes of candy in her purse, “most of it is. It’s horrible but so good.” She loops her arm through his and he tries not to look surprised. “Back to your place then?”  
  
    His eyebrows knot together. “This is actually all that I had planned… Did you want coffee? Isn’t that what most people offer?” He glances down at his watch. “Even though I don’t know how people drink it so late…”  
  
    They’ve slowed to a stop at the corner and she cocks her head. “Seriously? You don’t want to get your money’s worth?”  
  
    He blinks back at her before nodding slowly. “Erica, I thought I made it clear that all I wanted was your company tonight. I’m not looking for anything more.” His palms start sweating when she just continues to stare at him and he realizes now that he must have messed this up somehow. Is it insulting that he doesn’t want to have sex with her? Was this whole night more offensive than if he had just wanted to have sex with her since he was asking for things that weren’t really in her job description? He cleared his throat and pulled at his collar. “You’re a wonderful gal, Erica. And it’s nothing against you or what you do, I just… It’s not for me. Besides, I already have gotten my money’s worth. Just being in your company was enough.”  
  
    She shakes her head but there’s a smile pulling at her cheeks. “You’re one of the good ones, Steve Rogers.”  
  
    “Just because of this?” Now he’s the one to shake his head. “I just took you on a date. This shouldn’t make me one of the good guys.”  
  
    She laughs but it’s a little hollow. “Welcome to the 21st century.”  
  
    There’s a sadness in her words and he has to fight to keep the frown off his face. “Well,” he says, “are you parked by my apartment? Could I walk you to your car?”  
  
    “I’m actually one block this way,” she answers, hooking her thumb behind her. “And for safety reasons, I don’t allow that. Not that I don’t doubt you’d be able to keep me safe, Steve.”  
  
    He nods. “Thank you, then. I had… I had the best night I’ve had in a long time.”  
  
    She smiles softly. “Me too. Probably my best night on the job, but also the best time I’ve had in general in a while.” She looks down at her purse and then sighs heavily. “Would you mind holding this so I can fish out my keys without pulling out all the candy?”  
  
    “Of course.” He holds his hands out and she drops her purse into his hold. “Wow, that’s some pretty impressive packing. You’d make the army proud.”  
  
    She looks up at him through her lashes. “Sister-in-law, remember?” She slides her hand past a box of Goobers and then left, past a bag of Sour Patch Kids. “I hope I made you feel like just Steve,” she says quietly, hand emerging from her purse with a set of keys dangling from her index finger. She packs everything back in, tossing a package of Red Vines on top before trying to zip the bag up again.  
  
    “I honest to god never felt like Captain America once tonight. I really have enjoyed your company, Erica.” He wishes that this wasn’t going to be a one night thing. He wishes that they could get to know each other better, that he could have a friend in this world again who can just see Steve. But this is her job, her means of living, and the fact of the matter is, he is Captain America. It’s a dangerous job and he wouldn’t want to put her in harm’s way. Heck, even him  saving New York resulted in her meeting a sewer rat. He doesn’t want to imagine the things she’d have to see associating with a guy like him, let alone dating him.  
  
    There’s an awkward pause between them as she slings her purse over her shoulder again, her fingers curling around her car keys. He doesn’t know how this is supposed to end. Do they hug? Can he… Would she genuinely be okay with it if he tried to… He lets out a small laugh and shakes his head. “I’m not sure what to do,” he tells her. “Is it okay-”  
  
    Erica licks her lips and rolls her eyes. “We’ve connected tonight, Steve. You don’t have to ask.”  
  
    He shrugs but cups her cheek. “I’m polite.”  
  
    “The most polite person I’ve ever met,” she says, her free hand coming up to tug on his jacket, pulling him towards her a little faster.  
  
    It’s kind of awkward at first. It’s his first kiss since Peggy, which, to be fair, was only his third kiss ever. But she takes control, pulling his bottom lip between hers and all he can do to follow her lead. Her grip on his jacket tightens and he runs his tongue along her lip and there’s this sound, where he’s not sure if it’s coming from him or from her, but it sounds like a soft sort of purring. He can feel the tips of his ears warming and his whole body sort of igniting in a way he forgot could happen.   
  
    He’s known this woman for less than twelve hours but she’s the first person to actually listen to him, Steve Rogers, and be genuinely interested in what he has to say (and he knows it was genuine. He can tell when someone is wearing a mask, when someone is lying, and Erica definitely wasn’t.). And he’s so grateful to her for that. He’s grateful that she let him be Steve and he’s glad that, he hopes, she was able to be more of herself than she’s used to being when she works. He hopes that she got more than just a paycheck out of tonight.  
  
    She lets her teeth drag across his bottom lip right before she pulls away, cheeks a little flushed, breath a little labored. Her grip on his jacket goes slack and she runs her fingers over the fabric, smoothing it out. “Listen,” she says once her hands are back at her sides. “If you ever see me on the street, I want you to come say hello. Understood?”  
  
    They both know it’s unlikely, especially in a city as big as New York. But he returns the smile she gives him and nods. “Yes ma’am.”  
  
\--  
  
    He gets transferred down to D.C. a week later.  
  
      
  



End file.
